Distance Makes the Stomach Grow Fonder
by Aris24
Summary: For a prompt: Teenlock with Sherlock and John ready to go off to different universities. Both end up accidentally gaining while away and notice the freshman fifteen on each other when they meet up again for Christmas holidays. Weight gain, first kiss, alternate universe within.


_**Prompt: Teenlock with John and Sherlock going to separate unis, gaining accidentally while they're there and, upon meeting up, finding that they've both put on the 'Freshman 15' (and maybe a bit more)**_

"Wow, can't believe we finally made it," breathed John. It finally felt like summer. School was out. And well, secondary school was done for good. Now he was lounging on a deck chair in his best friend's backyard, the dark haired boy beside him

"Really, John? That overwhelmed by the 'common curriculum'?" drawled Sherlock, shades covering his eyes and making him look all the more nonchalant for it.

"Shut up," chuckled John, slapping at the boy's pale stomach. He gave a deep rolling chuckle in response, raising a hand half-heartedly to defend himself.

"You know what I mean," continued John, settling back again, "It just feels odd, doesn't it? After that many years, we're moving on. Starting the path to our real lives."

Sherlock hummed softly in reply, sounding like he might be dozing off.

John glanced over at him, then sighed at the clouds lazily drifting across the sky. Going to university. Separately. They'd been together since the last year of primary school where Sherlock had been tossed out of the private boarding school he'd gone to. He'd seemed so lonely, the new kid in the posh clothes and the haughty air. John had made it his mission to befriend him. At last Sherlock had given in. Now they were inseparable. Well apparently not. John would be staying in London to study medicine at the university there, and then hopefully at Bart's. Sherlock was going quite a ways further to some place John could never remember to study criminal and forensic sciences.

Well, at least there was this summer, John reasoned as his heart sank. Maybe he'd even buck up the courage to... no. It hadn't gone well for Harry.

John just sat back and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood in summer, cars trundling past, dogs barking, children yelling and running down the streets, and Sherlock's slow easy breaths. He needed to savor now, not waste the time worrying. There was always phone calls, the internet. It wouldn't be different. They'd keep in touch.

Still, John couldn't help but feel abandoned when Sherlock dropped by on his way to school. Somehow, when Sherlock offered his hand, John had found himself brave enough to close the distance between them and embrace his friend. Sherlock's thin bony frame stiffened for a moment, then John felt two tentative arms wrap around his shoulders in return.

"Take care, yeah?" John murmured.

"You too."

They stepped back. Sherlock suddenly looked troubled, but then his face was neutral so quickly John was convinced he'd just projected his own emotional turmoil onto that face.

"Well, have fun... I'll. er text you sometime."

Sherlock nodded, then looked up as his parents honked. He rolled his eyes, gave John his usual grin, then sauntered off as usual.

They did keep up with contacting each other. For the first week or so, anyway. There always seemed to be an enormous amount of people tugging John away from his laptop or hanging about in his room. His roommate, Bill Murray was a good chap. Jovial, if a bit shy at times. Better than Sherlock's roommate anyway, some Anderson bloke. Just a week in, Sherlock was berating the git over the phone while John tried to control his giggling, head collapsed on his desk and nearly sobbing with mirth.

"_Honestly_ John! I have no idea how this imbecile managed to get into this school! Moneyed perhaps, but he's such a grand idiot. He couldn't even tell me which elemental number Copper was on the periodic table! Can you imagine? And the questions he asks in lectures! Oh God, if it weren't for my chemistry professor I'd give it all up right now!"

John hiccuped and managed to look up, beaming at Sherlock on his computer screen. There was a knock at his door and a friendly greeting.

"Sorry, Sherlock. Mike and Bill are here. I have to go."

"Oh, yes, of course. Er, next Friday then?"

"Mm, Friday might not work for me anymore... can we do Tuesday?"

"I have a cadaver lab on Tuesday evening..."

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll text you yeah?"

"Yeah."

John felt guilty that he was enjoying university so much while Sherlock seemed oddly homesick and friendless. But then, not everyone appreciated his highly observant and direct nature. Of course, it only seemed to get worse as time went on. There were exams to be taken, papers to be written, material to study, tables to memorize. John found himself restricted to his room more and more, munching on crisps or snack cakes as he read into the night. Mike and him ordered pizza and takeaway during all-nighters. He was interested in medicine as well and so much of their coursework overlapped. Bill said he was planning on joining the army though, in his last year.

But until then, there was a lot to learn. Time seemed to fly by, still there wasn't a day when he didn't check his mobile as he crawled into bed. He felt odd always texting Sherlock. He was probably as busy as he was. So some nights he refrained. Then he'd get an odd one around three in the morning.

Finally, the first semester was at an end and the Christmas holidays were looming nearer. John had been stressing out about his final exams and term papers, spending most of his days shut up in his room again or in the library with Mike who always seemed to bring all sorts of snacks or food or sugary energy drinks to keep their strength and focus. John had noticed that his stomach seemed to be poking out a bit more when he passed his reflection, that his once rather loose trousers didn't need a belt anymore. His stomach had a comfortable arch as he rested his hands on it to go to sleep. Well, a bit of weight wasn't a problem. Most was probably due to stress. It wasn't much.

At least that's what he told himself up until he plodded out of the showers one day and almost didn't recognize himself in the mirror. He had to do a double take but no, that was definitely him just... rounder. John stared. He looked soft, cushioned where he'd always just had muscle and tanned skin. His arms soft and flabby, his pectorals sinking into the beginnings of soft peaks. And his belly. John looked down, horrified. Round, poochy, and much more grab-able than he could remember it ever being. Oh God! How had he let this happen? Alright, the food here was amazing, but he'd been working out just last... well that had to have been a month ago actually. And he'd been puffing afterwards. John flushed and drew his towel a bit higher, sucking in his gut on the way back to his room. He had a text from Sherlock. His heart leapt and then plummeted sickeningly as he read it.

_My last exam is finished. I'll be back in London tomorrow. What about you? - SH_

Oh God... what was he going to say? To think of him now? All svelte, and trim, and limbs. And here he was quickly becoming a butterball. John furiously threw himself on his bed, his frown deepening as his belly jiggled and jostled at the movement. He sulked there, ignoring how his stomach began pining for dinner as the evening wore on. Served it right. He watched a few episodes of his favorite tv show, laptop perched on the soft round belly he was pointedly ignoring, then he fell asleep. He didn't hear his phone beep just after midnight.

_John? - SH_

The next day was a flurry of hugs, and shoving things in boxes and then out the door. His mum gave his middle a bit of a glance, but he'd chosen one of his roomier school jumpers. Still, he was paranoid, that it would ride up and show off his saggy pale gut.

Finally, he was home again. And hating it already. He excused himself, saying he was going for a walk. His mother looked relieved, then told him to be back by dinner. She was making a lovely salad. John just gritted his teeth in a smile and said he would, then strode off, walking toward's Sherlock's place automatically. He pulled out his mobile and saw the texts from earlier. He felt guilty leaving his friend hanging like that.

_Sorry, just busy with moving out. You home yet? _John asked. He felt suddenly foolish for being halfway to Sherlock's house without even knowing if the other boy was there. He'd just stopped, about to turn around when his phone lit up.

_Yes! Coming over?- SH_

John's smile felt like it could split his face.

_Already on my way :)_

He picked up his pace, chubby belly hiding under his jumper forgotten for a few moments. That was, until he arrived outside Sherlock's house and saw his friend leaning so elegantly against the door, puffing at a cigarette.

"Those are really bad for you, you know," John called, despite the part of him that begged him to flee.

Sherlock looked up, and blimey, that was a smile wasn't it?

"They taught you something at that crap school of yours then," he taunted, straightening, pitching the butt into an empty flower bed, and striding over to John. John hadn't expected the hug, but his surprise gave way to a warm chuckle, then quickly to embarrassment as he felt Sherlock squeeze his now plump sides, forcing his round belly into the slimmer man's- hang on. John stepped back in surprise, gawking at Sherlock.

"Er, sorry, was that-" began Sherlock looking awkward.

"No, no it's just," John tried to explain, but he was laughing too hard. "Oh, thank God, I thought I was the only one!"

"The only what?" snapped Sherlock, drawing himself up. The movement only succeeded in highlighting the raven-haired man's altered physique. There too was a little swell of tum at Sherlock's middle, his trousers looked rather too tight, and the shirt was no longer tucked in. His thighs looked quite a bit thicker as well, stretching the fabric visibly.

"S-sorry," said John, once he'd got a hold of himself, "It's just... I never thought I'd see Sherlock Holmes get chubby."

Sherlock flushed and crossed his arms, not over his new belly, but above it. "I am aware. I just didn't think it _polite_ to point out other people's weight gain, _Watson_," he hissed, eyes flicking down to John's jumper, where a little strip of white flesh was just visible.

John tugged his jumper down, shaking his head. "No, you're right. I'm sorry for laughing. I'm just... relieved. That's all. You look fine, Sherlock, there's nothing for you to worry about. Better than ever."

Sherlock almost seemed to preen, then smiled as well. "Better than ever?" he teased.

"Er, yeah," said John, biting his lip, wondering if he'd given himself up.

"I'm inclined to agree," murmured Sherlock, stepping closer again and prodding John's belly through his clothing, "It suits you."

"Come off it," huffed John, though he smiled a bit as he batted the other man's hand away.

"I mean it," said Sherlock softly. John looked up and this time that expression lingered, "I've... missed you."

John blinked. His jaw might have dropped. But that was okay because apparently Sherlock took that as an invitation to kiss him. John grunted in surprise and then pulled Sherlock closer, feeling plush hips under his fingers. This time, Sherlock didn't flinch or balk for a second. He just melted softly into John. Suddenly he'd never been happier about a few extra pounds.


End file.
